My Life, His Life: Not Our Own
by Emrys MK
Summary: Severus contemplates what he has been asked to do. This very well could have happened near the end of DH.


**Title**: My Life, His Life: Not Our Own  
**Author**: Sev1970/MK Malfoy  
**Character**: Severus Snape  
**Rating**: PG  
**Warnings**: none  
**Date Written**: July 13, 2008  
**Words**: 677  
**Summary**: Severus contemplates what he has been asked to do.  
**Disclaimer**: JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros., and others own HP, not me.  
**A/N**: Thanks so much to lamenting_quill for the quickie beta — you are the best!

Just how he knew, he wasn't sure, but there was no doubt … Potter was in the castle. Fear unlike anything he had ever experienced ran through the Headmaster's veins and seemed to coalesce in his chest with a vengeance as the seconds passed. He had lived his adult life protecting Harry James Potter, but now, per Albus Dumbledore's instructions, Severus was to give the boy information that could send him to his death.

_Merlin, help me. Lily, please forgive me for what I am about to do._

Severus gripped the edge of the desk and briefly closed his eyes as he took a breath and tried to calm his erratic breathing. He knew what he had to do. He had a role to play; it had been his part and no one else's for the past seventeen years, and he would continue his performance for as long as it benefited those he was responsible for. He would do whatever he had to do in order to keep up appearances, with one exception: he would not lift a finger, wand, or anything else to bring about the death of Harry Potter — Yes, he might have to send the boy to his death, but it would not be by his hands … not exactly. He would make certain of that. He would kill himself before he harmed the boy.

That he would be the one responsible for death — again — even without lifting a finger, gave him the greatest heartache of his life.

_Damn, you, __Albus__._

Headmaster Snape (a title and position he had not wanted, but now accepted with almost reverence) stood but did not immediately turn to leave his office. He knew there was every likelihood that he would not return, and, as much as he had loathed teaching and being appointed to the post he now held, he now felt protective of his charges and did not wish to give that duty to anyone else; the children in the castle were his responsibility and he wanted to ensure that each and every one of them escaped what was about to happen. It was an impossible want; death would find Hogwarts and its students just as it had found his parents, and just as it would find him. If he could keep death from finding Potter, then that would be enough. Severus could then die with some small amount of satisfaction. Of course, that fact depended on whether he lived long enough to see the boy safe and the Dark Lord dead.

_Potter, your mother died for you. You have to live, do you understand? _

It was unfortunate that to finally rid the world of the evil that was the Dark Lord meant that the wizarding world would probably have to say goodbye to its saviour. It was not fair.

His eyes travelled to the chair on the other side of the desk; it had been there for as long as Severus could remember. In fact, he had sat in that very chair as an eleven-year-old. That little boy had been hurt, innocent and scared, and he had won the hearts of the staff of Hogwarts. They had molly-coddled him and tried their best to help him. Their attempts had not been beneficial to him in the long term; he had grown up feeling alone and had lashed out at them. However, their kind words and hugs had gone a long way in making a young boy – and eventual young man who had never felt love – feel as though at least a few people cared about him, regardless of how worthless he thought himself.

Walking to the door, Severus opened it, his hand shaking uncontrollably. He was going to send Potter to his death.

He was praying to anyone who would listen to let the boy live.

As he was, as his life was, as his promises were, his objective was a contradiction.

Severus looked over his shoulder, towards the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, inclined his head, then walked out of the office and shut the door.

The End


End file.
